


Silent Footsteps, Squeaky Hinges

by afreezingnote



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bisexual Dean, Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Sexual Content, Love Confessions, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-16
Updated: 2015-01-16
Packaged: 2018-03-07 20:41:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3182432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afreezingnote/pseuds/afreezingnote
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If relationship progression counts as plot, then there's a little bit of plot in this erotic extravaganza.  Specific warnings for sexual content inside.  </p><p>Dean willed the rhythm of his hips to cease as he looked up.  And yep, it was Cas staring at him from the doorway, his mouth open as he watched Dean grind on his pillow.  Ignoring the way that swelled his already engorged cock, Dean asked wrily, “You got a question, Cas, or you wanna stand there and watch me finish fucking my pillow?”<br/>Dean swore he could hear the click of Cas’s teeth as he closed his mouth.  Cas’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, and, wow, that was the last thing Dean needed to think about right now.<br/>“Can I?” Cas asked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silent Footsteps, Squeaky Hinges

**Author's Note:**

> Sexual content: masturbation, voyeurism/exhibitionism, pillow humping, mutual masturbation, hand jobs, dirty talk, comeplay, frottage, sex toys, fingering, anal sex (Cas tops), blow jobs, marking/hickeys. 
> 
> Further warnings just to be on the safe side: very slight Dom!Cas tones (he didn't mean for it to come off like that, but it plays in a way that implies they both might be into trying that out sometime), possession kink, which, along with the marking adds a bit of possessiveness, and there's a part where Cas is fully clothed for a bit while Dean is naked. 
> 
> Basically, there is a lot of sex before they talk about their feelings, which gives Cas pause, but Dean also likes to cuddle and kiss. And they do talk eventually.
> 
> Any mistakes or weird language are my own.

Dean couldn’t sleep.  It wasn’t that his memory foam mattress wasn’t awesome or that nightmares kept him awake, although being a demon had given them more fuel for the fire should they pick up again.  For the moment, Dean was okay.  He and Sam had had a knockout of a conversation, airing out all their issues from childhood to the present, but it had been less of a fight and more talking, which had helped, actually.  Cas wasn’t dying anymore.  He made the choice, for himself, to go mortal and stick with the Winchesters.  It thrilled Dean to have Cas around.  After Dean had given him a crash course in fighting the human way, mostly focusing on perfecting his handle on guns, adding Cas to their hunting dynamic had been seamless.  They’d become nigh unstoppable.  Cas could go toe-to-toe with any hunter in the business and then some.  His knowledge of lore and language had gotten them out of a few tight spots already, and his fluidity in hand-to-hand combat was unparalleled.  When Cas had a blade in his hand, it was a sight to see, the stuff of poetry, and it was that gracefulness making Dean restless.

They had just come home from hunting a werewolf.  Tracking it had been easy, but the wolf was a hulking bear of a man, as tall as Sam but thicker.  He looked like he might have been at home in a diehard biker gang, and he wasn’t gonna go without a fight.  The three of them cornered the guy in an alley.  Dean had landed a couple of shots--one to the bicep and one to the shoulder--that were giving the guy grief, but he still managed to knock Sam’s gun away and throw him into a building, his head bouncing against the brick on impact.  Distracted by Sam’s fall, Dean’s next shot had missed the heart by a hair and that was all he had.  They’d been running low on silver bullets with only six left, but they had thought six was plenty.  He and Sam split them half and half, but now Dean’s gun was useless and Sam’s was lost somewhere in the dark.  With just the two of them, it would have been a desperate situation, but Cas was there to swoop in, light on his feet and twisting his hips as he dodged away from every swipe of the werewolf’s claws.  He danced around the guy, and danced was the only word for it, until he had a clear opening to sink his blade in.  Sam had a cut in his scalp and had been dazed for a few minutes, but it looked like he had avoided a concussion.  The night had been young enough that the drive back to the bunker had been no problem, and they were all safe in their own beds.

Secure and warm but very awake, Dean rutted against his sheets to the memory of Cas in motion.  The hard length of him was insistent against his belly, but he just didn’t have the energy to turn over and take himself in hand.  Rolling his hips into the mattress had created a pleasant haze in his brain.  He hummed happily, inhaling the ocean breeze scent of the the sheets and relishing the sumptuousness provided by the high thread count he’d splurged for, but had the presence of mind to notice the growing wet spot in his underwear.  He untangled himself from his covers and shucked his boxers, throwing them on the pile of clothes he’d discarded before climbing into bed. To avoid dribbling precome onto his wonderful mattress, he tucked a pillow under his pelvis.  The cool air made gooseflesh dot the expanse of his thighs and ass, but the change in temperature against his dick felt exquisite, fleeting though it was as the cold side of the pillow warmed beneath him.  Dean had just started to thrust with abandon when he heard the quiet squeak of his door.

He’d heard no footsteps in the hall, so it probably wasn’t Sam.  Dean willed the rhythm of his hips to cease as he looked up.  And yep, it was Cas staring at him from the doorway, his mouth open as he watched Dean grind on his pillow.  Ignoring the way that swelled his already engorged cock, Dean asked wrily, “You got a question, Cas, or you wanna stand there and watch me finish fucking my pillow?”

Dean swore he could hear the click of Cas’s teeth as he closed his mouth.  Cas’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, and, wow, that was the last thing Dean needed to think about right now.

“Can I?” Cas asked.

“What?” Dean asked.  By some miracle he didn’t blush, but his whole body blazed with alarm or want or both.  He couldn’t quite tell which, and suddenly he felt very breathless.

“If I wanted to watch you fuck your pillow, would you let me?” Cas asked.

“Jesus.”  Dean’s thoughts stuttered over the sound of Cas’s gravelly voice rumble over the word fuck, smoothed like a rock in a tumbler.  “Why?”

“It might be educational,” Cas said so incredibly deadpan that Dean couldn’t stop the hysterical laugh that bubbled up his throat.

“You want to watch me, Cas? For education?” Dean asked.

“Yes.”

“Okay.  Okay, close the fucking door.”  When Cas obeyed, he continued, “This is one way humans utilize bedding for, uh, gratification.”

Dean started to circle his hips slowly, teasing himself.  He never dropped his gaze from Cas’s face, and Cas was riveted.  He eyes darted along Dean’s body, cataloging every undulation, every ripple of his back muscles, and every snap of his hips that might reveal the flushed head of his cock.  When the strain of holding himself up on his elbows made his arms start to shake, Dean eased his body down until his chest was flush against the bed.  He had to spread his knees wide to find a satisfying way to thrust in this new position.  Imagining how well the movement must show off his ass made Dean leak beads of precome, which he could feel sticky on his stomach.  He turned his head to look at Cas, and his eyes met the bulge in Castiel’s pajama pants before he could find Cas’s face.  Dean bit his bottom lip to hold in a gasp.  Looking in Cas’s eyes made the effort vain.  His pupils were blown, his cheeks flushed, and his lips parted again.  As Dean locked gazes with him, Cas licked his lips.  Dean dropped his face into the sheets and moaned.  It was then that Cas moved.  He was sharp, fast.  One moment he stood in front of the door, and in the next he was beside the bed, clutching Dean’s other pillow in his hands.

“Can I borrow this?” Cas asked.

Dean admired the steadiness of his voice.  “What for?” Dean asked.

“Scoot over,” Cas said.

“Oh.  Oh, shit, Cas,” Dean said.  

His body moved instinctively, which he was glad for as his concentration was spent on watching Cas strip his pants and peel off his shirt.  He caught a glimpse of Cas’s cock before he settled his hips against Dean’s pillow.  Dean shut his eyes briefly, recording the image in his memory; Cas had a pretty dick: pink at the tip and transitioning to match the rest of his skin nearer the base, uncut but hard enough that his foreskin pulled back, and not curving off in any direction.  When he opened his eyes, Cas had already started rutting against the bed.

“This does feel nice,” Cas said, his breath ghosting across Dean’s cheek.

“Yeah,” Dean said.  He sat back up on his elbows, positioning himself for a better view of Cas’s back and shoulders.  His arms felt the strain far sooner than he would have liked, and he decided it would be worth it to flip over if he could keep his eyes on Cas.

Absorbed in the sensation, it took Castiel a moment to notice Dean had moved.  When he did, his hips slowed.  “You stopped,” Cas said, disappointment clear in his tone.

“Mmm,” Dean agreed, starting to shuffle toward the headboard.  “My arms got tired.  You don’t have to.”

Cas grabbed his pillow and went with him.  Repositioned, shoulder to shoulder, Dean slid his hand over the sensitive crease where his abdomen met his thigh to wrap his fingers around his shaft.

“You ever do this?” Dean asked.

Cas nodded, his teeth sunk into his bottom lip in concentration as he watched Dean’s hand move, and, as if in a trance, followed suit.  Sweat gathered in the places where their skin pressed together, but neither of them minded.  Cas wiggled farther down the bed until he was slouching near enough to be lying down but raised up enough to see Dean.  He splayed his legs wider, throwing one over Dean’s so that their knees hooked together.  All the while Cas made small appreciative sounds, moans, whines, gasps--never having silence ingrained in him, he was uninhibited.  Dean wanted to soak in all of him, so he let himself stare at the mess of Cas’s hair against the sheets, the sharp angles of his profile, the sheen of sweat in the hollow of his throat, and the twitches of his stomach as his breathing quickened  All of that paled when Cas turned his head and stared back.  The intensity of his focus and the shape of his mouth around every sound jolted Dean to the edge.

“Cas,” he gasped.

Castiel’s fingers found Dean’s hip and traced along the bone until he found the V that plunged toward Dean’s pelvis.  He followed that sensitive crease of skin until he reached Dean’s cock and curled his fist around Dean’s base.

“Fuck, Cas, wait! I’m gonna come,” Dean said.

“Isn’t that the point?” Cas asked.

“Yes, but—” Dean said.

“Then let go,” Cas said, beginning to stroke Dean in time with his own rhythm.

Cas had paused long enough for Dean to lose the urgency of orgasm, but it wouldn’t take much to bring him back to the tipping point. Dean let his fingers skim along Cas’s hipbone as he reached over to still the hand on Cas’s cock, replacing it with his own.  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so aroused.  The feeling of Cas’s cock smooth and warm against his palm and the wetness  of Cas’s precome under his fingers made Dean experience a whole new level of heat beneath his skin.

“I’m close,” Dean said.

He couldn’t stop his hips from rolling up to meet Cas’s hand.

“Good,” Cas said, starting to strip Dean faster.  “I want to watch you come.  I want to taste you.”

“Fuck,”Dean said, the word twisting on a moan.

Dean wondered where Cas had picked up the dirty talk in the moments before he could no longer form coherent thoughts.  He rocked up hard into Cas’s hand once more and fell back to the bed panting with his legs shaking.  Cas dragged his fingers through the splatter of come on Dean’s stomach, brought them to his mouth, and sucked.  Dean groaned.  He turned on his side and inched closer to Cas, stroking him with renewed purpose.

“You’re so hot, Cas,” Dean said, his breath ghosting against Cas’s ear.  “Are you gonna come for me?  Gonna look so beautiful with come streaked up your stomach.  Come for me, Cas.”

As he orgasmed, Cas’s moans turned into a guttural sound that made Dean’s spent dick twitch with interest.  Cas sighed, blissed out, and let his eyes close.  Dean leaned across to his nightstand to grab a couple of kleenexes to wipe them clean before laying down and pulling Cas against his chest.  Cas nestled into his shoulder without opening his eyes, and Dean started to card his fingers through Cas’s hair, listening to his quiet breaths gentle into sleep.

* * *

Dean and Cas simultaneously shot rock salt at the two apparitions, lovers inseparable in life and in death, as Sam hoisted himself out of the grave with the neck of the shovel.  Sam tossed the shovel down at his feet, rooted around in his pocket for the matches, and set the whole pack blazing, flipping it into the grave.  The ghosts appeared just in time for the three hunters to watch them dissolve, wailing into the afterlife.

“We’re lucky they were buried together,” Cas said.  “I don’t know if we could have kept that up to dig two plots.”

“Tell me about it,” Sam said, wiping sweat and dirt from his brow.  After hours in the library trying to figure out where Mrs. Pedowitz had been buried, Sam had found the forgotten part in the will that specified the couple’s desire to be laid to rest together, a little closer than standard.  “They were the most vicious spirits we’ve seen in a while.”

“Let’s find some place to crash,” Dean said, shouldering his shotgun.

They trudged back to the Impala and collapsed into her welcoming seats.  The nearest hotel was a tiny hole-in-the-wall, but the neon sign in the window proclaimed vacancies.

“They only had singles left,” Dean said, tossing a key to Sam.  “Me and Cas will share.”

“See you in the morning,” Sam said.

“Night, Sammy,” Dean said.

At the same time, Cas said, “Goodnight.”

“You did real good out there, Cas,” Dean said as they turned a corner toward their room.  “Nailed every shot.”

Dean unlocked the door and let Cas in first.

“I learned from the best,” Cas said.

“You were a badass before you ever met me,” Dean said.

Cas had paused next to the bed, and he dropped his duffle bag as Dean walked over, stopping inches from him.

“Hey,” Dean said, a mischievous grin flitting across his face.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas said.

Dean tangled his free hand in Cas’s hair, pulling lightly to tip his face up and slot their lips together.  Dean felt Cas’s shoulders relax.  Cas placed his hands on Dean’s hips, slipping his fingers beneath the hem of his shirt to trace the small jut of bone with his thumb.  Dean brought his other hand up to cup Cas’s skull.  He kissed him again briefly and soothed his thumbs down the curve of Cas’s neck, applying pressure to sore muscles.

Cas made an appreciative sound somewhere between a moan and a sigh.  “That’s exquisite,” he said.

“Yeah?” Dean asked.

“Mhmmm,” Cas said.

Dean yawned.  “Uh, I’m so tired,” he said.

Cas only nodded, his eyes closed and his breathing slow.  Dean kissed him once more, soft and lingering.

“Let’s go to bed,” Dean said.

Dean set his bag on the other side of the bed and began stripping out of his clothes.  Cas undressed faster, so he pulled back the covers and stretched out on his side of the bed.  Dean got in after him, pulled the covers up, and scooted until his head fell on the inner edge of his pillow.  He found Cas’s hip under the covers, a silent request for Cas to join him in the middle of the bed.  Cas wriggled closer, interlaced his legs with Dean’s, and slung an arm over Dean’s waist, low enough that Dean could comfortably put his arm around Cas’s shoulder.

“This is nice,” Dean murmured.

More asleep than awake, Cas hummed his agreement.

…

When Dean woke, he found a solid line of warmth along his back.  Sunlight filtered through the cracks in the closed blinds.  Dean glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand and saw that he had slept through the night.  His drowsy mind let the thought that he owed his peaceful rest to the man spooning him come and go without panic, and, as his awareness sharpened, he discovered he didn’t mind it so much while fully alert either.

Cas shifted slightly in sleep, eliminating the barest of spaces that had remained between their bodies.  Through his boxers, Dean felt the firm swell of Cas’s erection fit into the cleft of his ass.  His own cock perked up with interest, and he palmed himself as he pressed back against Castiel. When Cas started to mumble incoherently, Dean knew he would wake up soon, and he rocked into Cas more persistently until he felt Cas’s hand move on his stomach.

Cas groaned faintly and his body tensed.  “Sorry,” he whispered into Dean’s neck.

Before Cas could put any distance between them Dean said, “Don’t be.”

Dean turned to face Cas, slipping an arm around Cas’s back and toying with the tiny curls at the nape of his neck.  He watched Cas blink the sleep from his eyes.

“Morning, Cas,” Dean said.

“Good morning, Dean,” Cas said.

Dean  dragged his eyes to Cas’s mouth, appreciating that dark pink before brushing their lips together.

“I think we have the same problem,” Dean said as he rolled his hips against Castiel.

“Oh,” Cas breathed.

Dean pulled back to see Cas’s eyes glittering with an emotion he was too nervous to name.  He shoved the covers off them, slid his boxers down, kicking them off his ankle, and pulled at Castiel’s waistband until he too was bare.  Bringing their hips flush together, Dean aligned their cocks and started thrusting leisurely.  Cas’s fingers traced swirls on Dean’s shoulders, plunged down the slope of his back, and caressed slowly back up again.  Dean dug his fingertips into the pert globes of Cas’s ass as Castiel began to meet Dean’s thrusts, conjuring a magnificent, languid friction.  As they moved together, Dean swallowed all of Castiel’s small sounds with kisses.  When they came it was simultaneous, sweet, perfect.

* * *

Dean was taking full advantage of a free evening home to pamper himself.  He lit the candle he’d bought in secret—scented with a combination of sandalwood, amber, and vanilla, put his headphones on, and spent long minutes opening himself up, his fingers twisting and making his hips twitch into the empty air.  He sighed as his pulled his fingers out and squeezed more lube onto his palm, warming it before slicking up his remote vibrator.  The black plug wasn’t his fanciest toy, but he enjoyed it because it left his hands free to tease himself and made edging easy, which was the goal now.  He intended to draw this evening out as long as he could.

He splayed his legs wide, angling his hips so he could slip the plug past his stretched rim in one effortless motion.  He hummed his pleasure under his breath, loving the feeling of being full, and flipped the control on to its lowest setting.  He waited until he felt awash with want before bumping his vibrator up to a higher setting, ratcheting up the tension throughout his body.  Completely preoccupied with sensation, Dean did not hear the door open and close.

When he next opened his eyes to change the remote setting, he found Castiel leaning against the wall, his jeans unbuttoned and the back of his hand moving visibly in the gap of the open zipper.  Cas blinked lazily at him when Dean met his gaze.  Dean turned the vibrator back on its lowest setting to prevent ending the party too soon, paused his music, and removed his headphones.

“No audience participation today?” Dean asked.

“Are you taking volunteers?” Cas asked.

“Well, let me see.  I need an assistant with a tendency toward rebellion, a willingness to bend their halo, and a taste for adventure,” Dean said.

“I think I know someone like that,” Cas said, walking to the end of the bed.  “Although their halo may have been dispatched with entirely.”

“Even better,” Dean said.

“What kind of assistance would you like, Dean?” Cas asked.

“I want you to do whatever you want,” Dean said.

Dean felt his face, neck, and chest flush as Cas raked his eyes along Dean’s body, seeming to make serious considerations about his options.

“I want you to move to the edge of the bed.  As close as you can while being able to pull your knees up,” Cas said.

Dean raised his eyebrows.  “Do we need a safe word?” he asked.

“You’re under no obligation to obey me, and there are no consequences should you not do so.  But if you want one?” Cas said.

“I can’t decide if I should be surprised you know what I’m talking about or terribly turned on,” Dean said.

Cas laughed.  He took a couple of paces to the chair by Dean’s desk, scooped up John’s journal, and deposited it next to the typewriter before moving the chair to the end of Dean’s bed.  “I only ask because I believe it will provide an optimal perspective when I put my fingers in you, which is what I want to do,” Cas said as he sat down.

“In that case, I have no reason to disagree,” Dean said.

“Bring a pillow.  I want you to be comfortable,” Cas said.

“Sure thing, Cas,” Dean said.

Dean sat on the edge of the bed, a pillow and the remote for the plug in each hand with his legs straddling Cas’s chair.

“Come here,” Dean said, leaning forward.

Dean’s eyes snapped shut as Cas moved to meet him.

“Oh, fuck,” Dean whispered.

“What?” Cas asked.

Dean wiggled the remote to indicate it as the culprit.  “It’s hitting me where it’s good,” Dean said.

Dean pulled Cas closer by the collar of his shirt and slotted their lips together.  When they drew apart, Dean said, “I think you’re a little overdressed.”

“Perhaps,” Cas said.  “Lay back for me?”

Dean nodded, situating the pillow so that he could watch Castiel’s face.  As soon as Dean was still, he felt Castiel’s fingers brush around the plug.  Cas neglected the thin cord attached to the vibrator in favor of grasping the base, gingerly inching it out with a slight rocking motion.  Dean pressed the power button on the control as Cas set the plug aside.

“Can you reach the lube?” Cas asked.

Dean tilted his head up, spotting the lube by the headboard under where his pillow had been.  He reached up and snared it with two fingers before passing it to Cas.  His heartbeat quickened as Cas coated his fingers.  Cas urged Dean’s legs up with a small touch.  He placed a kiss on the inside of Dean’s bent knee as he stroked two fingers across Dean’s rim before starting to rub the pads of his fingers in minute circles.  Dean squirmed beneath him, eager for more but content to let Cas take his time.

When Cas nudged the tip of his index finger into Dean, there was no resistance, so he pressed further in, making exploratory swirling motions.  Dean’s breath hitched.  He moaned when Cas’s fingertip skimmed his prostate.

“There.  Right there,” Dean said.

He whined in protest as Cas removed his finger.  Cas shushed him and pushed in again with two fingers, finding his sweet spot like he had a roadmap to it, and considering that Castiel had been the one to reform his body, maybe he did.  When Cas’s hand had plunged inside Dean to his third knuckle, he massaged his thumb against Dean’s perineum.  With hardly any time at all, Dean’s hips were shifting restlessly between the bed and onto Cas’s fingers, his breaths came in overwhelmed puffs, and a thin string of precome leaked from the slit of his cock.  Dean was almost certain he could come from Cas’s fingers alone.  Just as Dean thought he was nearing his peak, Cas reached toward the discarded vibrator, beginning to pull his fingers out.  Dean’s hand shot down to grab Cas’s wrist.

“No, Cas, come on.  That’s not gonna cut it.  You can’t just come in here, put your fingers in me, bring me to the edge, and call it done,” Dean said.

“What do you want?” Cas asked, his voice huskier than usual.

“Fuck me,” Dean said.  The words drew the heat in his stomach upward, as if it wanted to meet his mouth.  “I want you to fuck me.”

Dean saw something wild rise in Castiel’s eyes, something that reminded him of shattered lights, blown glass, and the shadow of wings.  The coil of arousal simmering inside him tightened.  His heart pulsed in his throat.  

“Do you want that, Castiel?” Dean asked.

“Yes,” Cas said.

Dean pried open the drawer of his nightstand with his fingertips but couldn’t quite reach as he  stretched back uncomfortably, trying to search through the contents blind.  He sighed and scrambled toward the headboard, his eyes glued to the sight of Castiel undressing hastily.  When he found the foil square he sought, he tore it open with his teeth.

“Come here, Cas,” Dean said, sitting up.

Cas met him on the bed, shuffling into the space between Dean’s legs.  Dean grasped Cas’s cock, slipped the ring of latex over his head, and rolled the condom down his length.  Casting his eyes to the side for a moment, Dean untangled the lube from the sheets, spreading a generous layer on Cas’s cock.

“Push in slow,” Dean said, collapsing back against the pillows and spreading his legs wide for Cas.

Cas caressed Dean’s thighs before lining himself up.  As the head of his cock breached Dean’s rim, he caught Dean’s eyes and didn’t look away.  When Castiel was seated fully inside him, Dean arched up to catch Cas’s lips.

“I’m ready, Cas,” Dean breathed.

Cas nodded, his eyes falling on the place where they were joined as he rocked his hips.  His breaths came erratically.

“Fuck,” Cas said, low and strained.  “Dean, I’m inside you.  Dean.”

“Yeah, Cas,” Dean said, sliding his hands down Cas’s arms soothingly.  “You feel so good.  Wanna feel you move in me.  Wanna watch your face as you come inside me.”

Cas moaned and dropped his face into the curve of Dean’s neck, starting to thrust shallowly.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Dean said.

After a few minutes, Dean felt Cas’s teeth graze his shoulder, a whisper of something Dean hadn’t known he’d wanted.

“Gonna mark me up, Cas?  Replace your handprint on me?” he asked.

Cas licked the spot his teeth had brushed and raised his head to look Dean in the eyes.

“Do you want that, Dean?” Cas asked.

Dean swallowed.  This was Castiel the analyst, the strategist, looking at him now, his eyes intent and calculating.  If the waves of warmth cascading through his body got any hotter, Dean thought he might incinerate.

“Yeah, I think I do,” Dean said.

“What does that mean to a human?” Cas asked, punctuating the question with a sharp thrust.

“It’s like calling shotgun,” Dean said.

“That stakes a claim on a position, which marks possession of a place if only temporarily,” Cas said.

“Yeah, basically,” Dean said.

“Are you saying you want your body to be a place I possess?” Cas asked.

“Oh, shit, Cas.  When you put it like that…” Dean lost the sentence in a moan.

“Is that a yes or a no, Dean?” Cas asked.

“Yeah, Cas.  My body is yours,” Dean said.

Cas hummed in approval and began kissing his way down Dean’s neck.  When he reached Dean’s shoulder again, he sank his teeth in deep enough to draw blood up to the surface but not hard enough to break the skin.  He soothed the bite with his tongue, repeating the process until he was confident the mark would remain on Dean’s skin.

Cas snuck his fingers behind Dean’s head to grasp at the bristles of his hair as he brought their lips together.  He shifted, raising Dean’s hips up slightly, and trailed his right hand down Dean’s chest until he met the hard line of Dean’s cock lying patiently along his stomach.  Cas merely let his fingers brush against Dean’s length, stopping only to massage the warm weight of Dean’s balls.  As Cas drew his hand back up and started to jerk Dean off, he said, “I have a question, Dean.”

“What’s that, Cas?” Dean asked.

“Would you have said yes to me?”

“Cas?”

“If something had happened to require us to recover my vessel and we needed to communicate in the meantime.  Would you have said yes to me?” Cas said.

“Yes,” Dean said, his voice a hiss.

Cas's hips moved faster, and he finally had to pause for composure to find words.

“And if it was a simple curiosity?  This body was suited to me.  There was a place for all that made me, but you would have been like a mansion.  It would have been a luxury to unfurl inside you, Dean Winchester.  Would you have trusted me enough to say yes?” Cas asked.

“Does it turn you on to think about possessing me, Castiel?” Dean asked.

“Yes.  Yes, Dean.  Would you have said yes to me?” Cas asked.

“Yes,” Dean said.  “Only to you, Castiel.”

Cas’s hips stilled flush with Dean’s, and he came shouting Dean’s name.  Cas’s hand, still around Dean’s cock, tightened, and Dean came seconds later.  After a moment of catching his breath, Cas pulled out of Dean gently and lay next to him.

“Forgive me if that was odd,” Cas said.

“Nah,” Dean said.  He peeled the condom off Cas, tied it, and tossed it toward the trash, his aim true as ever.  “It was hot.  We had that talk about you being mortal but not necessarily human.  Makes sense angel-y stuff would get you going.”

“Did you mean it?” Cas asked.

“Would I really have said yes, you mean?  To you, yeah, if you needed it,” Dean said.  “And the curiosity scenario has the makings of some serious fantasy material.”

“Hmmm, like what?” Cas asked, pressing his lips to Dean’s jaw.

“If you were possessing me, since I’m meant for an archangel, would you have complete control?” Dean asked.

“Hypothetically, it would be easier for you to take control back from me.  I think it would have been possible for us to share awareness,” Cas said.

“Perfect.  So, imagine we’re both in the driver’s seat, and we get turned on…” Dean said, trailing off.

“I see the possibilities,” Cas said, subdued.

“But maybe we shouldn’t talk about that now,” Dean suggested.

“Maybe not,” Cas agreed, trailing his fingers through the come on Dean’s stomach and leaving glistening sigils in his wake.

“I really need to invest in some wet wipes,” Dean said, reaching for the kleenexes.

Cas took the handful of tissues from him and wiped him clean methodically.

“Stay with me tonight?” Dean asked.

“Of course, Dean,” Cas said.

…

Dean woke to an empty bed, the space where Cas had slept next him still warm.  Only Cas’s boxers were missing from the room—his jeans and t-shirt still lay rumpled on the floor where they had fallen, which suggested he’d gone to take a shower.  Dean decided to join him.

He watched Cas rinse his hair from the doorway, appreciating the water streaming down the striations of Cas’s back.  Cas’s hands travelled with the shampoo suds that sluiced along his abdomen, taking a track to make light, teasing touches along the taut skin of his cock before chasing away more remnants of shampoo.

“Hey, handsome,” Dean drawled.  “You need some help with that?”

Someone else might not have noticed the startled jump in Cas’s shoulders, but it made Dean smirk.

“Dean.  Good morning,” Cas said.

“A glorious morning it is,” Dean said, waggling his eyebrows.

Cas squinted at him.  “That’s an innuendo,” he said uncertainly.

“It is,” Dean said.  “You’ve got an eager volunteer from the audience.  How about it?”

Cas smiled crookedly.  “I can’t say no to that kind of enthusiasm,” he said.

“Awesome,” Dean said.  “This is something I’ve been wanting to do.”

“What?” Cas asked.

Dean stepped into his space, pressed him against the shower tiles, and kissed him in lieu of an explanation.  “You’ll see,” he said.

Dean mapped his way from Castiel’s jaw to his neck and down his chest with silky, open-mouthed kisses.  He stopped to flick his tongue over both nipples, parting with a graze of his teeth on each hardened peak.  Dean sank to his knees, looking up at Cas through lowered lashes.  He saw Castiel swallow.  Dean kissed the protrusions of Cas’s hipbones and the spot right below his belly button before steadying himself with one hand on Cas’s waist as the other hand fisted Cas’s cock.

Dean lapped a bead of precome from the tip of Cas’s cock, traced his tongue around the glans, and fit just the crown of Cas’s cock between his lips, sucking tenderly and never breaking eye contact all the while.  Dean took the rest of Cas’s cock into his mouth abruptly, letting his eyes close when his nose pressed into Cas’s pubic hair.  Cas threw his head back against the wall and moaned, his fingers clutching at the base of Dean’s skull.  Dean hummed around Cas.  When he started to move up and down Cas’s length, Dean set a fast, rough pace.  He caressed Cas’s hip with the thumb of the hand he was using to balance himself and rolled Cas’s balls with the fingers of his other hand when he wasn’t jerking himself off.

Cas didn’t last long.  He managed three exclamations of Dean’s name in warning before coming in his mouth.  Dean looked back up at Cas whose eyes were shut tight while Dean swallowed, a grin blooming across his face as he licked his lips.  Cas’s hand slid from the back of Dean’s head down his neck, his fingers a gentle pressure that moved to Dean’s shoulder, landing over the mark Cas had left the previous night, as he stood.  Cas’s eyes fluttered open again.

“You finished?” Cas asked, glancing down to evaluate Dean’s state.

“Yeah,” Dean said.  “I, uh, like giving head.”  

As the glaze of orgasm faded from Cas’s eyes, he pressed his lips together, hesitating to speak.

“Dean, are we-- What are we?” he asked.

Dean placed his hand atop the one Cas had on his shoulder, lifted it, brought it to his lips, and twined their fingers together as he let their joined hands fall.

“You’re it for me, Cas.  You understand that turn of phrase now, right?” Dean asked.

“It means I’m the only person you want to love for the rest of your life, if my understanding is correct,” Cas said.

“Yeah, that’s pretty spot on,” Dean said.

The corners of Cas’s eyes crinkled as he smiled, making Dean’s chest feel light and warm.

“You’re it for me too, Dean,” Cas said.

“Good.  That’s good,” Dean said, ducking his head to hide the smile blooming on his face.

“Just to be sure, we’re--” Cas began.

“Exclusive?” Dean asked.

Cas nodded.

“You’re my Cas.  I’m your Dean.  Nobody else is ever gonna cut it.  We’re definitely exclusive,” Dean said.

“I think you should kiss me now,” Cas said.

Dean took Cas’s face in his hands, kissing him once soft and chaste before capturing Cas’s bottom lip between his lips and sucking.  Cas moaned and surged up against him, tangling their tongues together as he wrapped his arms around Dean’s shoulders.  They kissed until they physically couldn’t anymore, drawing away to gasp for air before diving back in again.

...

Sam was in the library, tucked into an armchair next to a bookshelf with a novel in his hands, when they left Dean’s room dry and dressed.

“Who else wants pancakes for breakfast?” Dean asked.

“Uhhh, sure,” Sam said.

“Awesome.  You good with that, Cas?”

“Yes,” Cas said.

Dean grinned, winked, and walked away whistling.

“He’s in a good mood this morning,” Sam remarked.

“Yes,” Cas agreed, a fond smile pulling up lips.

Sam cleared his throat as he moved a stack of books.  “So, I noticed you’ve been sleeping in Dean’s room sometimes.”

“I have,” Cas said.

“What’s up with that?  You two talk about things finally?” Sam asked.

Cas shrugged.  “We said what needed to be said.  I’m his Cas.  He’s my Dean.”

“That’s it?” Sam asked.

“That’s everything,” Cas said.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> I am balaszafiros on Tumblr and my Supernatural sideblog where I sometimes crosspost fic is thefamousspannerintheworks.
> 
> Update on 5/25/17 - I had been planning to continue this with a second part, but after struggling with the details for so long, it turns out I don't like any of what I managed to get done. So, I'm going to leave it as is. Apologies to anyone who has been waiting for more.


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